


sugar

by tenderwrites



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: French Kissing, Kissing, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Team Dynamics, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 07:12:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14744306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenderwrites/pseuds/tenderwrites
Summary: Kenjirou's been harbouring quite the nagging crush on his upperclassman, but all it takes for them to be pushed in the right direction is a shopping mall escapade, together with the team. Who can blame him, really?(Eita Semi's hair, his hands, his personality - Kenjirou thinks that he would have been forced to take measures if his senior remained anymore oblivious.)





	sugar

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! Remember #tendouweek that just ended recently? Well, this is the scrapped drabble for Day 6 - Fashion/Animals, because I got too carried away and made this Semishira instead. 
> 
> Have this while I work on my other Semishira multi-chaptered fic. 
> 
> Music for this fic: Maroon 5 - Sugar

Satori taps his left foot impatiently, as his eyes pass over the luminescent digits of the time on his phone. It is now currently 11:05 in the morning, and he is surrounded by his Shiratorizawa teammates. There is one person missing, however, as the team scrambles to locate where Eita has gone to.

“Guys help me, I can’t find my phone!” A pained shriek erupts from Hayato as he rummages through his bag, his belongings flying in all directions as he throws out every single thing that he had placed neatly inside his backpack. A lone shoe, keys and jacket fly out, and an unnamed substance together with the pile of mess he has created on the floor. Satori wants to laugh at him, but the more pressing issue is Eita’s location.

“Has anyone located Eita yet?” Jin asks the team, who simultaneously shake their heads or give a dissatisfied expression in return. _Trust Eita to be late for such a mundane event such as this_ , Satori thinks. As soon as he sees a figure with unruly ash blonde hair combined with an outfit that was _not_ a sight for sore eyes, he instantly clutches his stomach and bursts into boisterous laughter, tears littering the corners of his eyes.

“What in fresh hell do you think you’re wearing?!” Satori chokes out between bouts of laughter and nearly collapses to the floor. The rest of the third years can’t help but glance at Eita’s clothing, all while muffling their giggling with their hands or face masks. Some of the more shameless teammates snap a picture or two for keepsakes and at his entrance, Kenjirou can’t help but laugh a little in the corner together with Taichi. “Screw the equipment shopping; we have to buy Eita a new outfit before he embarrasses himself any further.”

“Yeah, fuck you too, Satori. Your own outfit doesn’t go places, either.” The third year huffs in annoyance, but does not dismiss the suggestion entirely. Rather, he slaps Satori on the shoulder, producing a hiss of pain from the middle blocker.

“What’s wrong with pullovers? They’re comfortable!” Satori looks towards Wakatoshi for reassurance and the ace nods in agreement and gives a thumbs up, which makes Eita roll his eyes. He removes the bandanna from around his neck and drops it onto Satori’s head, who then lets out a ‘Hey!’ of surprise and snatches it from his friend, pocketing it and never letting it see the light of day again.

“Where are you gonna even take me?” There is concern nested inside Eita’s voice, as he is successfully dragged away from public view and into one of the shops that seem acceptable enough for show. Already, there is a couple of graphic shirts littering Satori’s hands and a bunch of pants in Reon’s; the two of them sit Eita down on a couch and attempt to match the different outfits together. As the setter is sucked into a world of knowledge about fashion sense and teasing friends, he visibly starts to relax in front of the team, and conversation flows much more smoothly while he flits in and out of dressing rooms and shops. With the imminent arrival of Spring High, he thinks that a chance like this to bond with the team is rather enjoyable, if not tolerable; maybe, in the future, he would take more effort to dress more appropriately next time he goes on a team outing.

He looks around at the team in the shop that they are in. On his back is a new but value-worthy leather jacket together with a graphic shirt which he has no clue how it made its way onto the shelves of _that_ store, with his dull-looking bandanna hung around his neck and jeans that he feels are much too tight to be ruled as men’s wear. Fresh out of the fitting room, he tugs on the jacket and it feels smooth, which he thinks is rather cool. Satori seems to like his current outfit, as his phone is taking rapid-fire pictures of him despite the effort he takes to shield himself from photography.

Honestly, he couldn’t figure out why Satori was making verbal jabs at him for being _‘too pretty for his preference’_ or _‘being an alien of rare species’._

“This is it. This is _the outfit_.” Satori cries metaphorical tears as he admires his handiwork, and Wakatoshi offers encouragement by clapping his hands for his boyfriend’s impeccable fashion sense. Eita’s mind goes back to when he and Satori were talking in the dead of the night in their dorm, after yet another one of his sleepless nights.

_“Hey Eita, do you ever wonder about how your life would turn out if you didn’t have the fashion sense of a dumpster fire?” He had joked, but the statement had wormed its way into his heart. Sensing the changed atmosphere in the room, Satori had apologised for the slip of his tongue, but once he was finally quiet and snoring, the setter had opened his closet and stared blankly at the articles of clothing inside._

_Maybe he wants to make up for it,_ Eita thinks to himself, as he lets Satori snap one last picture of him smiling without him covering his face. He glances over to the pair of second years that wouldn’t stop laughing at him since he’d entered the mall, and is pleasantly surprised to find that no laughter is pouring out of Kenjirou or Taichi’s mouths. Rather, Taichi is relatively quiet and is elbowing his friend in the arm, with a nice smirk plastered across his face.

Satori has both of his hands on his hips and he is giving Eita this suggestive look which makes no sense at all. As much of an enigma the redhead is, he only has a few limited expressions before the ash blonde figures him out completely. However, as he stands in front of the team in his new clothing, Eita finds himself being the subject of attention by a very distracted second year setter.

“Shirabu…?” The third year utters out, a hand extending towards a seemingly flustered Kenjirou, which lets out a _squeak_ out of any noise he could make, and turns his burning cheeks away from Eita’s line of sight. “My outfit isn’t _that_ bad, is it?” He smiles nervously, but then Kenjirou stares up into his eyes disbelievingly and it makes him chew the insides of his cheeks from habit.

“You look like _shit_.” He says, with a presumptuous wave of his hand, but his shaking hands speak a different language.

“Well, I guess I should go and change the--”

“No--!” Kenjirou blurts out, a hand clasping over his mouth in surprise at the response tumbling out of his mouth like an uncontrolled dam. “I mean--”

Eita stares at him with a crooked but knowing grin, and he folds his arms over his shoulders and walks over to Kenjirou with all of the strength that he can muster. He lets out a breathy but relieved laugh, due to the fact that he finally understands what is running through Kenjirou’s mind. Eita slips a gentle hand underneath Kenjirou’s jaw and he feels the younger of the two shudder and he can see that the younger setter’s eyes are full of uncertainty and doubt, and so he seeks to reassure him with his soothing caresses.

“Hey.” He very nearly whispers, and this alone makes Kenjirou want to dig a hole into the earth and stay there for all eternity, because he is too far gone for Eita and his _stupid_ hair as well as his ridiculously _pretty_ face. “You like my outfit, don’t you?” Kenjirou doesn’t stop himself leaning into the third year’s touch and all notions of embarrassing himself in front of his teammates are thrown out of the window.

“...Still doesn’t make up for the fact that you have the mindset of a mule.” There is a tender smile on Kenjirou’s complexion, and paired together with the ruddiness on his cheeks, Eita finds it all too adorable for his own liking. He cups the second year’s cheeks and pulls him in for a kiss, which he thinks is greedy on his part, but when Kenjirou lets out a satisfied sigh, he forgets his tact and advances far beyond what he had expected of his relationship with his successor.

  
The brunette tugs on his jacket mid-kiss and lets out a ragged moan as Eita pushes past his teeth to explore his mouth, the two of them an amusing sight for Satori as he whips out his phone again to take pictures and as Kenjirou gets the first impressions of what Eita _tastes_ like, he can feel himself gasping for air. When they part unwillingly, there is a thin line of saliva connected to their lower lips and Kenjirou’s cheeks are burning, and he is staring dazedly into Eita’s dreamy dark eyes. Eita peels off his jacket and drapes it over the second year’s shoulders, and pulls him in for another heated kiss.

“Uh...guys? We should probably buy that equipment right about now…” Hayato stares disbelievingly at the pair who are enclosed in a world of their own, but then he is pulled away from the suggestive sight by Reon.

“You should leave them be, Hayato. The sexual tension between them at practice is unbearable.” Satori teases and he lets out a wolf whistle at them before following the rest of the team on their endeavor to purchase new equipment. As soon as the team takes their leave, Kenjirou struggles against Eita’s iron-like grip and when the third year finally understands the setter’s wishes, he peels himself away to look confusedly at him. The brunette’s lips are swollen and bruising red, and the taller boy wants to kiss him all over again.

“We’re in public, stop kissing me.” Kenjirou mumbles under his breath, but all Eita does is to hum annoyingly and squeeze his waist. “I mean it, _Eita_.” At the bold mention of his first name, Eita halts all of his perverse actions immediately, but leaves his newly-bought jacket on the brunette’s shoulders. He thinks that it makes quite the accessory on Kenjirou’s slender but strong frame, and so settles for admiring it on the boy he just kissed.

“...Does this mean I can call you _Kenjirou_ now?” He asks, rather hesitantly, and there are a ton of butterflies batting their wings violently in his stomach. As his question makes the second year hitch his breathing and meddle with the jacket on his shoulders, Eita receives a petulant nod for his advances and he breaks into a dumb smile despite himself.

“Come on, let’s hurry up and join the others.” Kenjirou cards his fingers through Eita’s and refuses to look in his direction. Under his ridiculous bangs, Eita almost sees the ghost of a fond smile on the setter’s face and if it makes the situation any worse than it should have been, the shorter boy tucks a strand of hair behind his ear and it makes the ashen-haired boy want to _claim_ him with kisses again.

“...Sure.”

  
  
  



End file.
